All's Fair. . .
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
By the next morning, Prime was able to walk down the corridor with fewer looks. The twins still gave him what for them passed as a collectively contemplative glance in the rec room as he grabbed his morning energon, and Jazz smiled more ferally than usual, but it was just a tiny goad from his third in command.. Beyond that, it was a fairly normal start to the day.
Prowl conducted himself in his usual logical, collected manner, except at one point, Prime caught his second in command humming to himself as he worked on reports.
By mid-afternoon, he'd managed to convince himself maybe things were finally going to get back to normal. But he was wrong.
The first sign was one of the new Autobots, Hot Rod, staring during an afternoon security briefing. Hot Rod was working closely with Kup, who had taken it upon himself to mentor the young mech whose name came up frequently in reports along with "insubordinate" and "disciplinary problem." Hot Rod seemed more interested in the new security protocols than an Autobot that age should, or maybe he was being paranoid. Hah, he thought. Paranoia would definitely be a new state for him.
The second was the drop-dead look of annoyance Ratchet leveled on him in the rec room early that evening when he went in looking for Prowl. The look was enough to send him backpedaling out of the rec room, straight into Hot Rod, who he nearly plowed over in his haste to get away from Ratchet. The third was the way Hot Rod's hand lingered on his arm as he reached out to steady him.
"Are you OK?" Hot Rod asked.
Warning bells went off in Prime's head as he nodded half-heartedly and practically ran the other way.
Springer, who was with Hot Rod, met his friend's gaze and shrugged.
And Optimus knew he should've sealed the door to his office when Sunstreaker walked in later that evening. The yellow twin turned a chair around, sat down, resting his arms across the back of it. Sideswipe followed, standing beside his twin, giving their leader a quizzical look.
Sunstreaker stared, and the expectant silence suddenly became unbearable as Prime wondered just what the twins wanted.
"So. . ." Sunstreaker said. "You've really never interfaced?"
It was an honest, earnest question. No malice or mocking in his tone, the gold twin merely asked it like he'd ask about the weather outside. But still. . .it took every ounce of dignity and reserve the Autobot leader had to not bang his head on the table until he went offline.
"It's true," Optimus said.
The twins shared a glance, then both leveled their gaze on their leader. Again. And under such close scrutiny from two of his deadliest warriors, he was suddenly uncomfortable.
"Is there anything else you want?" Prime asked, wanting them out of his office.
"No," Sunstreaker said, standing. "But if you need us, you know where to find us."
He watched Sunstreaker walk away, but Sideswipe lingered a moment longer, flashed him a smile, then followed his brother out of the office.
Prime raised an optic ridge. Had he just been propositioned by the twins?
-----
"I knew I'd find you here."
Prime came out of recharge, looked up, offlined his optics, onlined them.
"You know, if you need a place to sleep, you can hide in my quarters and I won't tell Ratchet," Kup said. "Your office isn't exactly conducive to a good night's rest."
"He'll find out. He always does. I swear he has optics in the back of his head," Prime said, picking his head up off his arms.
Kup smiled.
"No, he's just good at what he does," Kup said.
"You mean tormenting me and my troops?"
Kup let it slide.
"That afraid of him, eh?"
Prime sighed.
"No. Aren't you?"
"Just afraid of what he can do. There is a difference."
"If he has so little to do besides keep inquiring about my personal life, maybe I should find something to occupy his time," Optimus said.
"Like what?" Kup asked.
"Maybe we could switch places for a couple of days. I'll be a medic and he can lead the Autobots," Optimus said.
"Ratchet Prime? Now that scares me."
"Yes. Megatron might surrender in fear," Optimus replied.
"And little pink petrorabbits are going to fall from the sky," Kup said.
"True, but the thought of Ratchet like that frightens me."
"I'll be sure to not let him know that," Kup said, pulling up a chair. "So, what is bothering you?"
"Do we have to have this conversation now?"
"What conversation?"
"Have you come to offer me 'the talk' too?" Optimus asked.
"Eh?"
"Ironhide tried to offer me advice the other day. . ."
Kup raised a hand, stopping him.
"No. If anything, I'd like to know what about this is bothering you so much. You're not afraid, are you?" Kup said.
Prime sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and sighed.
"Yes."
--
Later that night, Optimus laid in his quarters going over the conversation with Kup. He wasn't afraid of the act itself, but of the intimacy it required. He had never let anyone get that close to him and hadn't considered it an option in millennia. Not when so many counted on him. He also hadn't counted on Kup's wiliness and his own willingness to share such doubts he hadn't aired in almost the same time. In the beginning, Kup was the one who listened, who was there to help. And he was now. That thought comforted him. And if there was anyone left in existence who knew him as well or better than he knew himself, it was Kup.